


Elia's Choice

by Anonymous



Series: Elia Martell Fics [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Elia Fests, Gen, Heavy Angst, Not Beta Read, POV Elia Martell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16345292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A terrible thing to ask a mother to do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I guess my Elia obsession isn't waning like I thought.

The royal apartments were quiet. Elia sat on her chair at the edge of comfort. She wanted to sink into the calmness but at the back of her mind, as always, was the knowledge of what was happening in the throne room. Though these days, she was not allowed near the King. On the floor, near the open window just out of reach, was Rhaenys. She had all her dolls around her and was in the middle of a confusing game in which the animals, dragons and humans battled over a pacifier. 

Beside Elia was a wooden crib in which Aegon cooed, giggled and spoke in that language of his. Elia had just changed his clothing to a pink one she had recently finished knitting. It was the second change of the day, unnecessary except for the fact that she wanted to hold Aegon, kiss him, smell the sweet, clean scent on his skin, and take care him without the help of the nurses. Rhaenys had resisted the same treatment, preferring to run wildly while Elia wiped Aegon's body.

The nurses, maids and guards were in the throne room for Rhaegar's funeral. It should, by rights, be happening in the Sept but it had been years since the King set foot inside a sept. Aerys had shrieked when Elia tried to come inside, hurling insults and accusations while weeping and tearing at his hair. It frightened Rhaenys, shook her and she shrank the longer the shouting went, understanding little and too much at the same time. Aegon laughed and suckled his fingers. Rhaella was a statue holding a torch beside Rhaegar's corpse. It seemed that she would perform the rites of the mother and the wife. The High Septon intervened, reminding the King of the long funeral ahead. He was, Elia knew, a good man, kind even, but he was one of those septons who thought they were closer to the Father and the Smith. Elia knew that he would not go farther and ask that she be allowed to participate her husband's cremation. 

The door opened. Elia smelled the perfume before she heard the soft rustling of silk.

"Lord Varys," she said slowly turning to the eunuch who bowed deeply.

"My dear princess," he said in his gratingly high voice. "My deepest condolences for your loss."

"Thank you," Elia said flatly. "Did the King send you?"

"Oh no. His Grace is overwhelmed by grief for his beloved son," Varys replied. "I come here as a friend and loyal subject." Varys sat down on one of the stuffed chairs. "The rebels are only days away from King's Landing. Lord Tywin has left the Westerlands. They will meet here if nothing goes wrong along the way. My little birds do not know yet who Lord Tywin plans on fighting for but it is only a matter of time before they do."

Elia's mind was racing but she kept her face blank. "There will be a battle at the gates or a siege."

Varys nodded solemnly. "I am afraid so, princess."

"And the King? What will he do?"

"His Grace, regrettably, believes Prince Lewyn had betrayed Rhaegar at the Trident," Varys answered delicately.

Elia's heart almost stopped. She knew Aerys blamed her health for Rhaegar's transgressions but to accuse her uncle of treason after the Dornish army was decimated trying to beat the rebels? What will Aerys do to her in his anger?

"His Grace means you no harm," Varys said. Elia expected him to titter into his large sleeves but there was no humor in his face. "Tomorrow Queen Rhaella will board a ship with Crown Prince Viserys and head for Dragonstone where the royal fleet is. You-"

"I will remain here," Elia finished. Her voice thinned in an attempt to hide the despair she felt. Viserys was now the heir, the poor boy but what that meant for her children she did not like. "Doran will receive a letter asking for men, I assume."

"The Dornish army will be expected to keep the war going."

Elia pushed through her rising panic to wonder if that was all this man came to ask of her. "Dorne knows its duties," she said.

"Most admirable these days but one has to wonder how quickly Dorne can do what is required of it."

"As swiftly as a spear thrown," Elia replied icily.

"In a day or two, there will be, as you said, a battle or siege, princess. Dorne is a week away," Varys said.

"What do you want, Lord Varys?' Elia finally asked. "Speak plainly."

Varys turned his head to watch Rhaenys hit one doll with another. Aegon had grown quiet in his crib though Elia did not know if he was asleep.

"Lord Tywin left King's Landing quietly," Varys said pensively, still watching her daughter. "In all the time I had known that man, I never knew him to do anything without ceremony. He was Tywin Lannister, Lion of the Rock, in every action he took.... He left King's Landing without his banners flying high, without once looking back."

Elia's heart was as loud as her voice. "They were childhood friends," she said. “The King and Tywin.”

"Robert is Rhaegar's cousin. Such frivolous ties mean nothing to many men."

"Why are you here?" Elia asked loudly. She was holding the armrests of her chair so hard her fingers were losing feeling. "To frighten me with knowledge I can do nothing about?"

"You can do something," Varys said.

For one dizzying moment, Elia thought he was going to ask her to help him kill Aerys. Then that thought came crashing down. This was a trap. An excuse Aerys needed to kill her.

"I will help His Grace in any way he requires me to," she replied in a pleasant tone.

Varys leaned forward slightly and furrowed his forehead. "Princess, allow me to speak more plainly than before. Tywin Lannister is very likely to break bread with Robert Baratheon. With King Aerys, he gains nothing. He has joined the war late. He will need to prove himself to Robert if he wanted to get something out of the war."

"Lord Varys," Elia said shakily.

"Robert Baratheon cannot reign as King peacefully with Targaryen claimants running around."

Elia gathered her strength and asked, "What do you propose?"

Varys inhaled. Without breaking eye contact he said, "We spirit one of the children away."

"One?"

"There will be people who will come in and out of your chambers, princess," he replied. "They will need to see a child they recognise or they will be suspicious."

"Surely," Elia said her heart sinking lower than ever before, "they will notice the other missing."

Rhaenys looked up and grinned at the both of them. Varys said, "Not if we replace them with a look-alike."

"Who you conveniently have." Elia's breaths were getting shorter.

"No. Nothing about this has been convenient, princess, you must believe me. I began looking when word of Prince Rhaegar's death reached me." An earnest expression took over his face. "You must understand the danger your children are in."

"Lord Varys," Elia said. Her face was numb and her lips were prickling. She stood for some reason. "Lord Varys."

"If the worst comes, you'll have saved one child."

"The worst?" Her voice sounded so far away, as if someone else was speaking. She was floating above the floor.

"If they break through the gates," Varys answered. "And they can. No Kingsguards are coming. You are the only thing that stands between your enemies and your children."

Elia collapsed back to the chair. She was dragging breaths in with force. "Will you give them up to spare yourself? You have built your webs inside the king's ears. The rebels would not love you for that." Somehow she managed heave those words out.

Varys laughed. "They will have to find me to take my head and your child. If House Targaryen falls, there is nothing here for me. Why, they claim in their pavilions I asked His Grace to execute the Starks.”

Elia closed her eyes, exhaustion and sudden aches overwhelming her. "I can't choose," she said.

"You must."

XOXO

A tall man in fine clothing strode past the skulls of mighty dragons to sit regally on the Iron Throne. Below, clean and unfrightened courtiers sought his audience. Members of the council at the foot of the steps spoke their advice loudly and clearly. They were good men, unmarred by greed and a lust for war. Outside the Red Keep, the summer harvest was sold in markets. The streets were clean, the smallfolk content. In all the realms the lords did their duty to the King and the common people. Elia could see it all so easily, just as she could see a woman with her face and body surrounded Rhaegar's surviving knights and friends. She defied the fate of the two Rhaenys who lived before her. Calm, patient and diplomatic, she was Doran in a different skin. The seven kingdoms would not know war during her reign. 

Yet Elia knew better than to expect that to come true. The Dornish army was mostly destroyed. The rebels hated all of House Targaryen. At Storm's End, Mace Tyrell feasted every night, trying to break the will of the remaining Baratheons to take a castle no one wanted. Who would fight to put Rhaenys on the throne? 

The choice was not really a choice. The rebels would hunt Viserys and Aegon, nothing but their little heads on spikes would do. Rhaenys would be stripped of lands, family and her voice. The silent sisters or the Faith, it matter little which one would hurt her girl more. Aegon, her fat, pink, happy baby would have his skin cut open. It really was not choice.

The children did not understand Elia's weeping. Rhaenys put her toy gently on the ground and walked carefully around the other toys to put her small arms on Elia's leg as she always did on such occurrences.

"Sweet one," Elia whispered. She lifted Rhaenys and kissed her on plump cheeks.

"Mama," Rhaenys said, her accent similar to Elia's. She launched a lispy story that Elia let wash over her. Rhaenys put up with the hug, the erratic rocking, the wet kisses. When Elia put her down, Rhaenys started for the toys, then she walked backwards and draped herself on Elia's leg.

Aegon let out a babble and reached out for Elia. His curly hair became wet with tears as she swayed with him in her arms for a very long moment.

"I love you," Elia told them. She sat on the ground and held them to her chest. "I love you. I love you. I love you." Aegon blew bubbles of spit out of his mouth and giggled. Rhaenys poked him on his forehead. "I love you."

XOXO

The quiet day turned into a quiet night. The chambermaids drew a bath for the three of them. Elia helped them swim in the warm water by keeping their heads up and moving them up and down the length of the tub until the water became cold. They ate sweets, played several games, and slept on her bed bundled up in the softest, thickest furs.

At dawn, Elia heard the door open. A hefty man who made no noise walked inside with a moving black bundle on his arm. Elia lifted Aegon and wrapped him in a black blanket. She took the bundle Varys had brought and watched tightlipped and quivering as he took Aegon.

At noon, Rhaella left the Red Keep. Elia opened the door of her chamber to find a dozen guards.

"His Grace has arranged accommodations for you in Maegor's holdfast."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about it and I decided this chapter shouldn't be a stand alone fic. 
> 
> I wrote this to try and get back inside Elia's head so I can finish my other fic.

Elia felt that moment at the tourney dimmed her sun a little. It was what her mother used to tell her father after unexpected setback; the sun was darkened but it could never fully lose its light, not even after death as long as they were remembered. Elia told her brother this while he fumed and cursed in her bed chamber. It was after all one setback, she was still the Crown Princess, she had her daughter and her court, and it seemed when she attended the evening's feast, her good father's support.

Elia knew the man cared little for her but she was grimly satisfied when he refused to allow the victor and his queen of love and beauty to dance. He demanded the 'Three Lambs' instead of the 'Dornishman's Wife' which had been a recent favourite of his. Once Elia got over the shock of the Mad King's knowledge of Dornish songs, she danced with her brother and then Baelor Hightower, who had been sitting on the far end of the large hall when she entered. Baelor's lack of grace was just as endearing as she remembered, maybe even more now in light of her husband’s actions. Rhaegar sang mournfully of the Lord of dragonflies and Jenny of Oldstone, neither looking at Elia or the Stark girl but the intention was louder than his voice. Just as Elia was wondering how many hits her sun could take in a single day, Oberyn stood suddenly on his chair and bellowed 'My Featherbed.' Her brother was a poet but he never had the voice Doran did but in that moment, it was the most beautiful thing Elia ever heard. It was so comical that soon many lords joined it each trying to sing louder and worse than the other.

When she looked at her husband, she found him smiling at Oberyn. He left earlier than expected with his knights and squires, though by then wine and ale had loosened tongues and the hall of a thousand heaths was so loud, Elia could feel the sound digging into her ears. When the King stood up, they fell silent so abruptly that it almost seemed like they never made a sound. The Mad King raised his golden goblet in a toast.

"Three hundred years ago, my ancestor bent the backs of your ancestors with beasts never before seen in Westeros. Since then your Houses have served us faithfully. This tourney I hope has served as a reminder that House Targaryen binds you all… in perpetuity and House Targaryen shall crush you should you dare to defy us. May you have found what you came here looking for, my lords."

Elia's eyes searched the faces of the great lords sited near the high table and found she did not like how they looked. Still they and all the others raised their cups and drank to the King.

Later while she breastfed Rhaenys, she wondered if she hid her pain sufficiently and then she wondered why Rhaegar insisted that she attend the tourney with him. Did he know the Stark girl was going to be there or was he seeking something different? Elia did her duty as his wife and flattered the lords that filed into the tower they were staying at. Her ladies in waiting flitted between groups signing praises of their prince and his wife. The Mad King left the Red Keep for the first time in years and showed everyone what they have been whispering about, yet Rhaegar's behavior was even odder. She knew he left in the middle of the night and she knew the hedge knights they met on their way to the Riverlands caused such a raucous that no one noticed Rhaegar missing.

That was all, Rhaegar rarely told her anything. In Dragonstone, he would lock himself in his solar with his closest companions while she ruled the island on his behalf. Still it took Elia a few months to realise that the Crown was withholding Rhaegar's allowance. She saw Tywin Lannister's letters about his mines on Rhaegar's table once but could not understand what help he was seeking. In fact it seemed more like he was boasting than anything else. Perhaps they were planning something together, something that even Connington seemed aware of. Elia's instincts were pulling her towards a certain direction but that was so foolish, so reckless that it seemed unlikely. A blue flower crown on a young girl's lap came to Elia's mind without warning. Perhaps Rhaegar was that foolish and reckless to put her and Rhaenys in such danger.

Maybe that was why the crowning stung fiercely but did not burn. It felt like the end of a road rather than the beginning. Her ladies would sigh over Rhaegar's smiles or the sweet questions he would ask if they found themselves in the same room but Elia could see his eyes held no warmth when they looked at her. He acted out of duty to such an extent that she might as well be any other woman. Elia remembered the night of the comet. She was asleep until he slammed her door open. He was fully dressed and holding a torch. With no explanation, he tore the sheets off her and pulled her gown up. In the light of the torch, Rhaegar looked eerily like his father, his eyes were feverish and his hands cold as he ignored her questions. Eventually Elia did her duty and she bit back any sounds knowing he disliked hearing her moan. Afterwards, he pointed at the red comet with its tail facing south and said they would have a son. Strangely that was the moment that he seemed to be really looking at her. Elia didn't know what to do, she was disheveled, she had drool on the cheek and it all seemed like a dream. When he left, she cleaned herself, taking only a moment to revel in the new type of sore in her sex. In the morning, she applied rogue and with help from a nurse, she tried to see him again.

"Elia!" Oberyn burst into the room. Immediately, Elia caught a strong whiff of mead. "You should come with me to Dragonstone."

"Oberyn, close the door." Before he did, Elia could hear some girls giggling just out of sight.

"Wait for me," Oberyn told them.

"Come with me to Dragonstone," Elia said when she was sure Oberyn was paying attention.

"Doran doesn't trust me with his precious good brother."

Ignoring the bitterness in his voice, Elia thought about Dorne. She could give birth there instead of the damp and cold island her husband loved. Rhaenys could see her home and people before the northerners' poisonous words could harm her irrevocably. The Dornish sun could give them both vigor.

"I should come with you," Elia said faintly. In a stronger voice she asked, "When are you leaving?"

Oberyn brightened drunkenly. "I thought you'd refuse. In the morning, after we eat." He dropped onto her bed. "Just you wait, Elia, before we even reach the Red Mountains, you'll remember how to laugh again."

"I know how to laugh."

"You haven't once since we met again." Oberyn started pulling at the threads of her shawl. "You used to laugh at everything. Remember when a moth got too close to the flames? Every time I mentioned it, you'd laugh."

"I have grown, Oberyn. Perhaps now I need to see something actually funny."

"The mummers would have brought you to tears two years ago." He was now poking her daughter's small feet. "The moth was funny, it was mother's favourite saying after all."

"I'm a mother now and-"

"Mother laughed all the time. Even now when her illness has robbed her of everything, she laughs."

For some reason Elia was close to tears. "You can't expect me to be the same person always." She did have her joys in her new home. Her ladies, the hard work and Rhaenys. It was enough.

Oberyn leaned back until he was lying on the bed. "I didn't expect you to change so much."

To Elia's dismay, she felt tears falling down her face just as Rhaenys unlatched and began coughing. Elia lifted her to her left shoulder and burped her until the coughing stopped.

"If you lived in Dragonstone with me, it wouldn't feel so sudden," Elia said with a watery smile.

"You have to talk to Doran," Oberyn said sleepily. "I swear he is worse than mother."

Elia will. With Oberyn around, Connington wouldn't be so smug and grey walls of the castle wouldn't sap her strength so much. She only needed to ask Rhaegar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Please comment. It's been hard writing again due to my severe depression. I'm really obsessed with the idea of Elia being strong in public but vulnerable. I also noticed how often in Elia fics that her sigil and family motto gives her strength which I love but I wanted to look at another aspect where she isn't always strong, at least not in the conventional way. Since I was reading Sansa's chapters in ACOK I got inspired.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually going to be much, much, much darker but then I found a conversation on Tumblr discussing my fics. Someone described them as bleak so this was me holding back lmao. 
> 
> Tell me what you think. I love comments.


End file.
